


What's a Lovely Lady Like You Doing In a Place Like This?

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Ass Play, Blindfolds, Bondage kink, Brothels, Complicated Relationships, Cunnilingus, Desire, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Intimacy, Light Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Restraints, Rimming, Sex Talk, Submission, Threesome - F/F/F, Wine, breast appreciation, cunt riding, grief and loss etc etc, mention of Flint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 07:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15310062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Tired of being confined and tucked away in her isolation, Miranda sneaks into town and pays a visit to the brothel.





	What's a Lovely Lady Like You Doing In a Place Like This?

 

Miranda looks around the brothel with open curiosity. She has known the place exists, naturally. Such places always exist wherever society creeps in, and any attempt at settlement is made. Men seek their pleasure wherever they can, and women are wise enough to know that they will pay for it. Miranda applauds them for it, even as she's a little wistful. There is never enough freedom to pursue the things you want to in life. In London she did her best, and there were days when her life was nearly as free as it could be, but there were still compromises. There are always compromises. 

Miranda brushes away the thoughts of London, the past, and moves forward to a table in the corner, sinking down between a large leafy tree. She wants a cup of wine, and she wants...her stomach leaps a little as she thinks of what she wants.

Flint sails and ravages the high seas and has freedom. He's able to let himself express himself, to pour his blind rage into violent actions. Whether he seeks pleasure anywhere, she doesn't know. Miranda had asked once...when he hadn't come to her bed in quite some time. Flint's knuckles had whitened around the mug he was holding and then he had thrown it against the wall, letting the crockery smash into the wall and stalked out. 

An hour later he returned, apologizing. They had gone to bed, moving in each other's arms until they were both spent. Miranda had lain there, and wondered how long this pain would remain. She loved Thomas but she wanted...she wanted peace. She wanted to be able to live her life. She would want that for Thomas, if their places were reversed. She was tired. She was tired of the time, and the constant knife pricks of remembrance. They had faded but they were still there. 

"I don't." Flint had breathed into her hair. "I don't go to anyone. I don't have anyone other than you." 

She had been both relieved, and disappointed. If he had found someone else, perhaps there would have been peace for him as well.

But it had not dissuaded her from her aim. He chose to keep himself in solitary purgatory, agonizing over their loss. She was still alive. And she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel as though she were still a living breathing, desirable woman. There were people she could have taken to bed, but frankly they bored her. And so she had come here. She was willing to pay for it, but only for a woman who was willing to go with her.

 

*  *  *

 

A pretty blonde girl strolls towards her. "The madame wants to know if you're looking for yerself or yer man."

Miranda stifles a smile at trying to procure a third person for her and Flint. If she were to do such a thing, it would not be a girl. "For myself."

The girl looks at her openly. "Should be an easy setup." She says matter-of-factly. "You're not bad looking for a lady."

"Why thank you." Miranda murmurs, hiding another smile. The compliment such as it was, was amusing. She waits, sipping the wine that the girl had left, and thinks of what she will do.  Even if she doesn't end up going to bed with someone, just sitting here is enough of a break in her dull routine.

"Madame."

The voice speaking to her is low and charming, and French. Miranda looks up into warm brown eyes and a delicately formed face, an inquisitive expression, and the hint of a smile upon perfectly formed lips. Her heart skips a beat. It has been a long time since she saw a woman this beautiful.

"Yes..."

"If it pleases you..." The young woman holds out her hand. "I would like to take you upstairs."

Miranda licks her lips, finding them dry. She nods. "It pleases me a great deal." 

A smile blooms upon the woman's lips, and Miranda puts her hand into hers.

 

*  *  *

 

“I’m Max.” the woman tells her over her shoulder as she leads Miranda upstairs.

“Miranda.” There is no harm in telling her only her first name.

Max throws her a smile as though she guesses Miranda’s thought. She leads Miranda down the veranda to a room at the very end of the hall.

“Please.”

Miranda enters and looks around, but her attention is focused upon Max.

Max closes the door gently and looks at her. “This is not your first time in a brothel, isn’t it?” She leans against the door, studying Miranda thoughtfully. “Though it is your first time in this particular establishment isn’t it?”

“No, to the first question, and yes to the second.” Miranda answers.

Max gestures for her to sit upon the chaise lounge, so Miranda does and watches her as Max as she pours some wine for both of them.

“A long time ago in London, I often visited such houses for the women there were very amusing and good company with their opinions and intellect, a far cry from the ladies of society that I encountered at parties and dinners.”

“They were better lovers too, were they not?” Max smiles as she brings over the wine.

“Yes, for the most part.” Miranda says frankly, accepting her cup of wine with thanks. “Although there was one lady of my acquaintance who was the most skilled. Her fingers were divine.”

Max sits beside her and lifts her glass. “To women we’ve known and the women we will know, and all the rich and varied delights they contain.”

“Hear, hear.” Miranda echoes the toast.

She watches Max’s lips as she drinks, thinking of them on her nipples, her throat, and feels a flush running from high between her breasts down low to the core of her, the heat building and answering from within. Yes, this is what she’d been missing, being secreted away in the cottage. She should have done this much sooner. But she had respected Flint's wishes and stayed away from town for the most part. She knows there was wisdom in the decision. It’s not entirely safe, but there are things worth the risk, things that make life worth living.

“Would you like to tell me what you’re thinking of?” Max asks quietly, “Or would you like to be distracted by something else?”

Miranda considers this. It’s prudent to keep her identity private, to trust no one in this place even while she’s enjoying being here. But if she wants to return a second time, taking someone into her confidence would be helpful. And she wants to trust Max.

“The man I am partnered with,” She begins slowly. “He thinks it’s dangerous for me to venture into town very often.”

Max nods in understanding. “I supposed there was a good reason for why I hadn’t seen you here before. He cares very much for your safety, this man of yours.”

“It’s safer.” Miranda mused. “But it does get lonely.”

“He’s a captain on a ship, is not he not? Away for weeks at a time?”

“Yes.”

“Then he does not know what it is to be alone.” Max takes Miranda’s hand. “Doesn’t know the hours of weary silence, of not having the company of a friend to laugh with.”

Miranda smiles. “You are very understanding.”

“I have been lonely in my life.” Max answers. “Although at the same time, admittedly I prize my solitude very highly indeed.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Miranda nods. Max knows.

“But you are not alone tonight.” Max murmurs, gazing at her. She places her both their wineglasses on the floor, and crawls onto Miranda’s lap. Slowly she undoes the belt on her robe and lets it fall to the floor. Beneath it she’s wearing nothing at all.

Miranda sighs in pleasure. “You are extremely beautiful, Max.”

“Coming from someone so lovely as yourself, that is high praise indeed.” Max whispers, leaning in to kiss her. Her lips are warm and taste like wine and spice. Miranda finds herself responding, her body taking over, surging to life. This is what’s been lacking. True earnest desire, unencumbered by grief or loss. There is nothing holding her back from pouring her love and desire and pleasure into this woman, reveling in sharing that desire with her.

 

*  *  *

 

Max’s fingers toy with the bodice of her dress. Delicately she slides a hand inside Miranda’s bodice squeezing her breast, drawing out a nipple and then finally undoes the laces, letting Miranda’s breasts spill free of their encasement. Her hands span them, cupping them lovingly, moving slowly to bless each breast in turn with her tongue.

Miranda squeezes her thighs together, trying not to come simply from the pleasure of her touch.

“No.” Max coaxes her legs back apart, slipping a skilled hand between them to rub Miranda’s clit through her underclothes. “No, let it come, let it swallow you, saying more and more.”

Miranda shudders, gripping the arm of the chaise lounge as Max sucks hotly on her breast with her fingers stroking her clit. It’s too much, far far too much. Her head falls back and her eyes close as the waves descend over her and she’s lost entirely.

Still Max circles her clit with delicate pressing motions, making Miranda’s body come alive again and again and again.

She’s damp with sweat and flushed from pleasure when she opens her eyes.

Max smiles at her. “Drink a little more wine.” She suggests. “And come.”

She draws Miranda over to the bed, undressing her slowly until Miranda stands there nude before her. In return, Miranda gently pushes her down upon the bed and kisses her way along Max’s breasts down to her cunt, sliding her fingers through the pleasing curls at Max's mound.

She's missed this too, the scent of a woman, desire unmoored and unrepressed. She kisses her way up one svelte thigh and down another, making note of each time Max’s body trembles a little beneath her mouth. When she bestows a kiss right upon her clit, and then licks delicately across it, Max shudders. Miranda slips one, then two fingers inside her as she keeps going, slowly working Max into a heated frenzy.

“Fuck.” Max gasps, sighing into a stream of French that Miranda only half understands. She had mostly learned polite French after all, but she finds this exclamatory bewilderment of Max’s quite complimentary.

She leans down to slip her tongue inside Max, tasting the pleasure dripping out of her. It's sweet as honey on her tongue. 

She crawls back up kiss Max's breasts, savoring their pert perfection.

Max gazes up at her with pleasure. “If ever you wish a job in town, my lady, I can assure you, many many people would pay for such pleasure as you are giving me.”

Miranda laughs as she lies down beside Max. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She sips her wine, looking around the room with interest. It’s beautifully furnished, a little small for entertaining, but quite comfortable.

“Is this your own room?” She asks suddenly.

Max looks shy for a moment. “Yes, I wanted to take you somewhere worthy of you.”

“Oh.” Miranda murmurs, and then she leans in to kiss her, overwhelmed with the nature of this gift, the magnitude of Max’s invitation, bringing Miranda into her private space, usually reserved solely for herself. She cups Max’s cheek, softening the kiss but finds the hunger rising in her again and Max responds, answering it and then they’re lying on the bed kissing like it’s the first time they’ve ever kissed another, searching, devouring kisses. Miranda feels her body reacting to the joy of Max’s lips, the way Max sighs her pleasure upon Miranda’s tongue, how each kiss leaves her starving for more. How is this so?

Max draws back, rising up to lean over her. ‘Would you like to be completely undone by pleasure?” she whispers, dipping down to trace just the tip of her tongue teasingly upon the point of Miranda’s left breast. “Would you enjoy that?”

“Yes.” Miranda breathes.

“Good.” Max’s eyes dance with satisfaction.

She has Miranda lie on her stomach upon the bed, placing a pillow under her hips, positioning her ass just so. It feels as though she's obscenely on display and Miranda finds the ability within her to still blush at how much she enjoys this. Next Max ties her wrists and lifts them above her head to tie to the headboard. Then she produces a silken cloth and blindfolds Miranda. The room descends into darkness and there is only the waiting and anticipation. Miranda presses her hips against the pillow and waits.

 

*  *  *

 

There is oil slowly dripped over her cunt, and Max’s nimble fingers easing their way inside her. She’s going to use something, Miranda guesses, and her body trembles with excitement.

When Max deems her prepared enough, after so many slow circular motions of her fingers, motions that leave Miranda’s hips pressed hard against the pillow, half ready to come again, Max slips the polished tip of a wooden cock inside her. She angles it just so, so it brushes the spot inside Miranda that makes her gasp wildly. Max leaves it placed just inside her, resting the length of it between her spread legs.

“What a sight you are.” Max whispers, her lips drifting over Miranda’s bare shoulder. “A fine lady such as yourself all splayed open like this for my enjoyment.” She presses another kiss to Miranda’s back. “You would make a pretty whore, my whore, for me to do with as I please, no?”

“Yes.” Miranda breathes. Her breasts heave as she tries to squeeze her legs together and yet, though she wants to come again, she wants Max to tell her when. She wants Max to command her.

“Good.” Max kisses her lower back. “My lovely lady whore.”

Her finger play over Miranda’s rump and then she slowly traces down the delicate cleft of her ass.

Miranda stiffens as Max licks a slow layered stripe of her tongue all the way down between her cheeks to her hole. Miranda’s whole body shudders as Max laves the tip of her tongue over her hole, teasing the furled bud there.

“You are beautiful, even here.” She whispers, stroking her fingertip over Miranda’s hole again. "If you were truly my whore, I would make a little rosette to place here for you to wear and you would wear it all day underneath your skirts, letting it fill you and tease you, driving you mad, and then at the end of the day you would come to me and beg me to fuck you, to satisfy you.”

“Yes, oh yes.” Miranda gasps.

Max spreads her buttocks wide, praising her cunt, her hole, her breasts, how good she looks like this, how perfect Miranda is all over and then Max’s mouth descends upon her again, pressing her tongue inside her, sucking hungrily at her hole, as though it were a sweetmeat she couldn’t get enough of. And then just as Miranda thinks she couldn’t get any more aroused, Max slides the wooden cock fully inside her.

Miranda moans, her thighs and buttocks spread wide upon the pillow. The wooden cock fills her; she feels her cunt pulsing around it. Max has a good hand with it, and Miranda loves it as though it were her own shaft. She wants it, and next time, oh yes, next time she wants Max to wear it, letting herself ride her, tits bouncing as she takes her deep, feeling Max’s pleasure fill her to the brim.

She’s moaning loudly now, squeezing tightly around the cock, cunt throbbing with the deep strokes of it, her renewed need to come and then Max slides it all the way out of her, leaving her empty and bereft. Miranda whimpers, trying to press her cunt backward to find it.

Max laughs. “Such a needy cunt.” She strokes Miranda with her palm, petting it. “Begging for it so prettily.”

“Please.” Miranda gasps. “Please, I need you.”

Max presses the tip of the cock  back to her cunt, just a tease of the tip, and Miranda whimpers again, hips moving helplessly in her need.

Max pushes two fingers into her and then moves slower, sinking them into Miranda's arousal. “You are so wet, my cherie, so good. You feel so good.” She rocks her fingers through Miranda’s pubic hair, her fingers brushing lightly against the clit. But she doesn’t touch it, no, she knows better.

The tiny nub between her legs throbs. Miranda’s dying with need. She can feel herself, her juice seeping out of her, aching from the cock, Max’s mouth and fingers. Her hands strain at her bonds. Her breasts heave, the ache within them needing to be held and caressed overwhelming her. How long will Max make her wait like this? How long, how long how long.

“You are so very lovely like this,” Max whispers.“I want you to be fully and thoroughly enjoyed, my cherie.” She kisses Miranda’s hole again, sealing her lips there. “Do you trust me?”

Oh god, does she trust her? There’s a flicker of fear. Miranda know she has placed herself in possible danger here. They could do anything. The establishment could easily hold her captive and demand Flint pay for her return.

But Max squeezes her buttocks, brushing her thumb over her clit. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Miranda breathes and knows it to be true.

She hears Max slide off the bed and go to the door. Oh god, she’s leaving the room. Miranda is alone and bound, helpless and aroused. She strains again against the silken tie, but there is no give. Her breasts sway needily. She’s torn between her desire to escape and staying exactly where she is to see what Max has planned. Her clit aches with longing.

 

*  *  *

 

There’s a murmur of voices in the doorway and Miranda strains to hear.

“I have brought a friend to share you with.” Max says. “She is most enamored of you.”

“Thought you were gorgeous from the moment you walked in.” It’s a women’s voice, pleasant, a little crude, but pleasant all the same. Miranda’s body relaxes in one way, Max hasn’t betrayed her, and in another way, her senses continue to race. They’re going to use her as they wish and she’s bound solely for their pleasure.

The hand venturing between her legs is different than Max’s, the fingers pressing inside her cunt, curling and teasing.

“Oh, fuck, you’re drenched as a waterfall.” The other woman exclaims in delight. 

“Idelle.” Max murmurs warningly.

“No.” Miranda hastens to say. “I like it.” She blushes saying it, but it's true.

There’s a low laugh. “Looks like she likes it."  The hand fans her cunt, palming it, squeezing her mound. “You feel as hot, like you're on fire, my love.”

Then thre are two hands squeezing her breasts and Miranda realizes the weight on the bed shifts as Max has moved to sit in front of her, reaching down to cup her breasts. Miranda ducks her head down and Max moves closer as though knowing what she wants. She draws Miranda face down to her thighs and Miranda licks hungrily at her cunt.

There’s a quick teasing slap against her cunt and Miranda’s body shocks with pleasure at the surprise of it.

“Mm, you like that, don't you, lady fair?” Idelle asks. “Your cunt’s hungry for it, isn’t it?” She does it again and Miranda’s body jolts again, burying her face in Max’s cunt.

Her cunt stinging, Miranda gasps as Idelle moves to squeeze her buttocks, and then her tongue thrusts inside Miranda’s hole, as her hand sneaks around to rub Miranda's stinging clit, tweaking it almost painfully, and then it _is_ painful in its pleasure, and christ, god in heaven, Miranda wants this so much. Her body has surrendered itself over to these two women, putting herself, her body, her cunt in their hands and they are drawing the pleasure out of it, feeding her ecstasy with their own bodies.

Max is coming underneath her tongue and Miranda feels Idelle moving close behind her, and then, she feels the woman’s cunt pressed between her splayed legs, idelle’s hand fingering them both, stroking them in time with their bodies, her breasts heaving against Miranda’s back as she moans. She is smothered between their bodies, and her cunt stirred to a feverish endless surge of pleasure.

Idelle slips back down to plunge her tongue inside her again and it only makes Miranda moan and come harder.

Max tears the blindfold from her eyes, leaning down to kiss her, and Miranda kisses her mouth greedily, her body drowning in sensation. Max is kissing her and stroking her face, and Idelle tongues her ass and tells her she has a pretty little hole, and Miranda, thinking she has come enough already, finds her last orgasm teased deliciously and slowly out of her, with Idelle spreading her legs even wider as she slips the three fingers into her, as she pinches Miranda’s clit, sensitive as it is, tightly enough to make her scream like a banshee and drench Idelle's hand in her rich juices.

 

*  *  *

 

Her body is spent. Max is kissing her, slow revising kisses, stroking her breast as she does.

Idelle turns out to be a beautiful woman with ample bosom, Miranda recognizes her from downstairs, and she smoothes the rumpled bedsheets, making a space for Miranda.

“Here.” She fetches more wine, and they recline there, the three of them, drinking wine and laughing.

Miranda catches Max’s eye across the bed, and seeing her smile, Miranda knows she will visit them again.


End file.
